


Sacrificial Bond

by WL_Erkling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, F/M, M/M, Multi, Triad - Freeform, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WL_Erkling/pseuds/WL_Erkling
Summary: When the marriage law is enacted, Harry once again worries about losing everything he has. How will he tell Draco that they might lose everything they've built together? Leave it to Hermione to find the solution that no one was expecting. [Drarry; Triad; MM/MFM]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters, settings, and themes from the Harry Potter universe are property of J.K Rowling. I neither own, nor am making profit from the writing or sharing of this story.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Just in case you wanted some author inspiration: the song I kept going back to throughout writing this was “Retrograde” by James Blake.
> 
> Beta Love: Ladiefury  
> Aesthetic: Ladiefury
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://s1248.photobucket.com/user/wlerkling/media/Sacrificial%20Bond%20Banner_zpsgkzy7ksr.jpg.html)  
>  <> [](http://s1248.photobucket.com/user/wlerkling/media/Sacrificial%20Bond%20Aesthetic%20by%20LadieFury_zpsaion47em.jpg.html)  
> 

 

            If there was one thing that kept restless feet still, one thing that allowed them to shut out the world, it was the rapid breathing of one against the other in the aftermath of waking up tangled in charcoal sheets. Harry lay with his cheek against the steady rising and falling of Draco’s chest. If he held his breath, he could hear both heartbeats, and he grinned. His lover’s hand trailed lazily along his side, disrupting a coil of gooseflesh, causing it to tip over and erupt across his skin from his shoulder down to the tips of his toes. He nudged against the bud of Draco’s nipple with his nose, feeling the low, rumbling exhale leave his partner.

            Drifting in a post-coital haze, Harry’s eyes slipped slowly downward. It wasn’t long before a snore was heard and Draco chuckled, placing a kiss to the man’s forehead. “I love you too, Harry.” As he lifted a shoulder, digging his elbow into the bed in an attempt to get out from beneath his lover’s weight, a loud set of chimes went off, startling the sleeping brunette. Harry’s nails dug into Draco’s side and hip, making Draco wince, grab for the hand he could reach, and fall back to the bed. “It’s fine, Harry. Just the floo.”

            “Oh. I’ll get it.” Harry sat up, groggily rubbing at his face with both hands. “Were you leaving?” Draco smiled in response. “Prat.” The chimed sounded again. “Fine, fine. I’m coming.” He stood, reached down beside the bed to grab a pair of loose trousers and pulled them on. Draco breathed in sharply as Harry tripped over a pant leg, nearly falling to the floor in the process. “M’fine. Coming.”

           

~~*~~

 

            “Hermione You’ve been my best friend since we were eleven, but it’s too bloody early for this.” In the flames where he knelt, he could only see the top of her forehead and, occasionally, her eyes. She was looking down at something.

            “Yes, yes. I know. But Harry?”

            “Yea?” Now, her soft brown eyes were looking straight at him and he could tell she’d been crying.

            “It’s happening.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Kingsley just owled me. I’ve got the final legislation here. I can get you a copy, but… it’s everything we’ve already talked about.”

            “Refresh my memory, Hermione. If I’ve got to break this news to my husband…” he trailed off, letting her work it out.

            “Well,” she took in a deep breath, looking back down at the parchment. “I guess I’ll only go over the parts that pertain to you.” Her expression was soft, traces of pity almost covered the agony for a best friend. “They’re saying it’s a choice. All childless couples may dissolve their marriage bond—”

            “But they can’t! Do you know what that means, Hermione?”

            She winced. “Yes, Harry. One or more of the partners may not survive. It’s even written in the legislature.”

            “That is barbaric. I thought they were supposed to be saving us, not bloody well killing us all off! How is this helping anything?”

            “Harry, please let me finish this.” Harry clenched his jaw, fisting the knee of each trouser leg. He nodded tersely. “If the couple does not wish to dissolve the marriage bond, the option is presented to become a triad.” He scoffed.

            “That’s right, just fuck anything that moves while my husband stands by and watches. That will go over really well.” He rolled his eyes.

            “Harry, this is probably your best option.”

            “How is this my best option? We can get this repealed. We have you working on it!”

            Hermione took in a stuttered breath while thick tears began rolling down her cheeks. “I-I’ve tried, Harry. I’ve tried so-so m-many times. Kingsley and I worked every night for a month. I barely saw George. Fred even stayed overnight at the ministry with me a few times and George was furious!” She smiled at this and Harry chuckled, running a hand through his greasy locks. “Harry, I’m begging you. Don’t break your own heart—or his. Find a third. We can find you a third.”

            “I have to talk to Draco.”

            “You all right, love?” He heard George walk up behind Hermione, patting her shoulder. She turned away from the flames and nodded toward her husband. “Harry?” He didn’t realize he’d looked away from the couple. “Harry, look at me.” He did. “Please talk some sense into him. I realize that you two have finally found your peace, but sometimes… sometimes we need to do things we’re not comfortable with in order to keep moving forward.” She looked back to her husband and smiled.

It had taken Hermione a long time to realize that being the Wizengamot’s research assistant, assigned directly to the minister, was not the most important thing in her life. While that position offered her the chance to research proposed laws, offering advice directly to Kingsley as a trusted advisor in an official capacity, she also found herself oddly in love with a lanky ginger who refused to walk away. When Hermione caught wind of the upcoming Marriage Law proposal, she shut down entirely until she felt she’d read everything she could about wizarding marriage, breeding, pureblood weddings and birthing rituals. It was pushed through during a session when Hermione was unavailable to the Minister, assigned on another project. They had been feeding Kingsley along with their Wizengamot allies every scrap and bit of parchment on it they could in the hope of waylaying a passing vote.

She’d been trying to fight it—for them, for Dean and Seamus, for Ginny who’d yet to marry. It didn’t affect her and George, as little Fred was a little over seven months now. As the time passed and Hermione looked worse for wear, Harry grew a little lost in all of their conversations. He was unable to keep things straight as to which text she was reciting from or whether a quote she’d been telling him was from the Wizengamot session currently in or from something different entirely. This news, though, shook him to the core.

After the war, Harry and Draco drifted toward one another—Draco’s anger clinging to Harry’s grief. No one else understood it, but then again, they didn’t have to. Oddly enough, it was Ron who was the most comfortable with the new couple. After all, his relationship with Luna took them all by surprise. Slowly, their friends accepted that Harry and Draco just were. There were some that shook their heads. Others chose not to be around the couple. Still, there were others who defamed and publicly despised Harry for being with a death eater. Those were the most challenging in the beginning. After all, the war was fought to end the prejudice against one another. It didn’t matter that some were on one side and others were practically born on another. The war took too many lives and that’s what landed them in the situation they now stood.

Two wizarding wars in two generations. Too few witches and wizards to keep the magical blood flowing. Surely, there would be a boon in children at the resurgence of hope and the end of a war as there was the last time, but would it be enough? The Wizengamot surely didn’t think so. Therefore, at the behest of the few, they made a choice for the many.

 

~~*~~

 

            “Well that was refreshing. I highly recommend that you at least brush your—” Draco was rambling, staring at the pillow he’d been fluffing when he spun around to face his husband.             “Who was on the floo?” His eyes narrowed.

            “Hermione.”

            “What did Weasley want?” He stilled completely now, coming to stand at his full height. He wore trousers now, too. The silk fabric of them rode low over his hips, yet Harry did nothing. His eyebrow rose. “Potter.”

            “The marriage law. It’s-it passed.” Harry’s face fell. Unable to stand across the room from his partner, lover, now husband of several years, he crossed the room. Draco did not move. He did not speak. He did not react when Harry gripped him about the waist and began mumbling against his naked chest. “Draco? Draco have you heard a word I said?” Harry stepped back, wiping tears from his face.

            “I’m sorry. What does this mean?” He looked pained, confused.

            “Sit down, Draco.” Harry waited for his husband to sit, then occupied the space next to him. A deep breath carried him forward into remembering everything Hermione told him just a short time ago. “We either have to have our marriage bond dissolved,” he paused, reaching for Draco’s hand and squeezing it. “Or we have to find a third.”

            “I don’t know what good a third cock in our bed will do us, Harry.” He laughed then; a short, barking, laugh, but there it was none-the-less.

            “We need to find a _female_ third, Draco.”

            “What the hell would I do with a woman? I didn’t marry a woman. That much should be obvious. My cock shrivels every time I think about the pity fuck I gave Pansy just to get it over with.” His grey eyes were molten steel against anything Harry had to say about the pug-nosed woman.

            “It wouldn’t be Pansy. We can choose.”

            “What woman do you know who wants to bond with the golden boy and a death eater?” He scoffed at himself, hands on his knees now.

            “There’s another option,” Harry paused, unsure whether or not Draco was in the right mind for hearing it. He said it anyway. “We can let the Ministry choose for us.”

            “Who, pray tell, did they give that miserable job to?”

            “Someone volunteered to work out the details on the Ministry’s end.” Draco turned to Harry then, all sharp angles and despair.

            “Who, Harry?”

            “Hermione.”

 

~~*~~

 

            The notice came quickly. Neither of them expected for the ministry to match them to someone within a few days. Harry called over to Hermione and George’s house to find out that the pressure on her was unbelievable. She’d slept in her office the night before, drooling across several profiles and needing to scourgify them upon waking. Harry and Draco, however, had been her priority. With each female application, they were her first thought. That was how they found themselves standing just inside the door to the rebuilt Potter Cottage in Godric’s Hollow, completely gobsmacked by the face in front of them.

            “Bulstrode?” Draco asked incredulously.

            Standing before them was a broad-shouldered woman with black waves that lay softly to her elbows. Caught off-guard, she righted herself, shoulders squared, just an inch or so taller than Harry. Her robe was flowing open in a breeze that played it around her ankles, outlining the narrowing of her waist and the flare of her hips. While neither man paid particular attention to these feminine features, they did create a striking figure—outside of the tear-reddened cheeks and constant sniffling.

            “Draco.” She looked straight into the eyes of her Hogwarts classmate, then noticed the man standing beside him. “Hello Harry.” Her voice was slightly softer, but that could have been because of the continued sobs plaguing her.

            “Do forgive us, Millicent. Please come in.” Harry gestured the woman in, unsure what was happening between his husband and their guest. “Can I get you anything? Some tea, perhaps? It looks a bit chilly out there.” She nodded. “All right then. Why don’t we all come in to the kitchen and I’ll get everyone something.”

            “Whiskey, Harry. I’ll need Whiskey.” Harry pursed his lips, but inclined his head toward his husband, trying to ignore the man’s rudeness.

            “This way, Millicent.” Harry motioned for her to follow and all three walked in silence.

            Once in the kitchen, Harry filled a muggle tea pot to boil and Draco rolled his eyes, leaning against the opposite counter. Millicent sat at the table and wiped clumsily at her eyes. For a few minutes there was nothing but the gathering of steam. Steam for tea, steam for confrontation, and steam for whatever was building up inside of Draco.

            “I’m sorry, Millie. Can you please tell me why you are so upset?”

            “They didn’t tell you?” She looked horror-stricken for a moment, then sat up, ever the proper Slytherin. “Of course they didn’t. Wouldn’t want spoiled goods then.” Draco huffed loudly. She stared in return. “As you may know, Draco, I was bonded to Greg.”

            “Goyle?” Harry asked. Millicent nodded.

            “We got together a couple years ago.” A smile, then her fingers began a nervous cadence on the table. “When the law came out, we knew we were in trouble. We’d not been using potions or spells. It took me a while, but I convinced Greg that we should both go to St. Mungo’s for testing. Maybe we just needed a fertility potion, you know?” She looked up to Harry, who was fiddling with the burbling teapot, but hummed in acknowledgment. “It turned out that Greg, he… he couldn’t have children.”

            “Of course. The great git couldn’t get anything right.”

            “Draco.” Harry’s tone was firm, a warning. Millicent glared.

            “Of course, St. Mungo’s reported it to the Ministry and they dissolved our bond. It’s in some sub-section of some obscure part of the law. We didn’t know, or we would have just kept quiet and tried the potions first.” Harry placed a cup in front of her, honey and sugar already out. She smiled up at him in thanks.  “Four days. He made it four days after they dissolved the bond.”

“I’ve been told that’s a long time, actually.” Harry spoke quietly, but they both stared at him. “Many aren’t lasting the day. I’m sorry Millicent.”

“I know that he wasn’t much to either of you, but we loved each other in our own way.” Harry sat next to her, placing a hand over hers as it shook against her mug.

“Love means a lot to me, Millicent. It doesn’t matter whose it is. That’s why we fought this damned war to begin with.”

She looked up at him then and an understanding passed between the two. Draco shifted across the room, causing them to jump.

            “I’m supposed to give you this. Well, both of you, I guess.” Harry reached for it just as Draco raised his wand. He snagged the parchment before Draco managed to get the spell out.

            “This is an addendum to the law. It’s not been out a week and they’re adding to it already! How is this fair?” He continued reading.

            “Harry, you need to start reading that bloody piece of parchment out loud before I hex your bollocks from here.” The brunette blushed, looking up at his husband with the scroll between his pale fingers. Millicent had the good grace to say nothing.

“Under the Wizarding Ministry Marriage Law, subsection 24, part F: With the formation of a new triad, a child must be conceived within the first six months. If said child is not conceived within the prescribed timeframe, all bonds will be dissolved and any living partners will be reassigned.”

“RE- ASSIGNED? Please tell me that isn’t the word you just read?” Draco was fuming now, stalking around the table to where Harry stood. Millicent shrunk as much as she could into her chair. Harry started walking backward, the hand with the parchment in it slowly lowering toward the floor. When he saw Draco’s wand lifting, Harry’s eyes widened just a bit, mouth hanging open. “ _INCENDIO!_ ” The scrap he held went up in flame, small bits of ash drifting to the floor.

“Draco, calm down.” There was nothing calm about Draco Malfoy. Every muscle in his lean frame stood out against his trousers and button-down. His wand nearly vibrated in his hand with the effort he was putting into withholding his magic. “Draco, love. We’ll find a way.” During the brief respite during which the blonde seemed to breathe, Harry managed to move into his personal space, gripping the wand hand and lowering it.

“Don’t you find this all a bit disgusting?” Draco asked, indicating the parchment, the law, the world in general. Millicent looked down at the table, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“He doesn’t mean you, Millicent.” Harry pushed Draco back a step. “I will not lose you, Draco. I fucking died to get us here, to get us _all_ here alive. I understand that you’ve lost a husband,” he looked to Millicent, “and I am utterly terrified of losing mine. This?” He pointed to the pile of ash. “This means nothing. _We_ mean nothing if we can’t get through today. We’ve been through so much worse.”

“Bulstrode. I assume you have things to be moved in?” She looked taken aback by Draco’s address and matter-of-fact question.

“Ye-yes. They are stored at the Ministry. Greg’s father seized the manor when he knew that I was going to be…” She let the words fade away, not wanting to upset the two men in the room again, nor reference her many questions to the current situation.

“I’ll floo Hermione to have them sent here immediately. There is a guest bedroom down the hall.” She looked between the two men, unsure how to respond.

“You’re not going to refuse me?”

“Why on earth would we do that?” Harry’s question was abrupt, almost seeming to shock himself.

“I was never your friend, Draco. We played the loyal Slytherin nest mates in school, but that’s all it was. You truly wanted nothing to do with me.” She ignored the hard look he was giving her to turn toward Harry. “And Harry. I don’t even know you. You know nothing of me aside from who I’m sure you think I was during the war.”

“We all did many things we’re not proud of during the war, Millie.” Draco’s use of a school nickname brought a smile to the woman before him and he walked up to her for the first time since she’d appeared at his door. “If I can forgive Potter for stalking me and even trying to kill me, then I think we can forgive you the sins of a teenaged girl in war.”

Harry snorted, laughed, then punched his husband in the shoulder. “Git.”

 

~~*~~

 

            It had been a week of silent breakfasts, awkward goodbyes as they rushed out the floo to work, and several bottles of firewhiskey to calm the nerves. Surprisingly, it was Draco who spoke quietly in Harry’s ear as they rose for the day.

            “We shouldn’t wait too long.”

            “I don’t—”

            “We’ll just ask her what she wants, Harry.”

            Harry nods. That’s all Draco needed before pulling away, his warmth leaving Harry bereft and alone in the space he’d always been safe. He didn’t feel safe. Instead, he clutched the blankets tighter around him for just a minute, scrunching his eyes as if he could ignore the world for a little while longer.

            “I’ll meet you down for breakfast.”

            “Mkay.” It was muffled and Draco huffed as he walked out the door.  

            By the time Harry joined them in the kitchen, Millicent had breakfast splayed across the table. They’d taken to sharing cooking duties, outside of Draco, as his penchant was more for burning anything he touched than producing something edible.

            “Morning Millicent.” She smiled up at Harry, a cautious lift of the cheeks as she served herself some of the fry-up. “It smells wonderful.” This made her blush a bit, still awkward with any praise.

            “Thank you Harry. I wasn’t sure what either of you wanted this morning, so I made a bit of everything.” She rambled when she was nervous. She did that a lot when both of them were around. Draco’s cool eyes met his and Harry swallowed thickly around his pumpkin juice.

            “Millicent?” She looked up. “We need to talk. About, er, what we need to do.” They all stopped. Draco laid his fork down. Millicent just froze in place. Harry shoved the bite of food in his mouth and didn’t seem to think about chewing it. He spoke with the food still uncomfortably there. “It’s about, um, the law.”

            “Or for Merlin’s sake, Harry. Chew your food and don’t drag this out.” He turned on Millicent now. “It’s been a week. Neither of us has had sex with you. How do you want to do this?”

            If she was blushing before it didn’t even come close to the scarlet spreading rapidly across her cheeks and down her neck. She took a polite drink of her juice and waited a minute before answering.

            “Harry. I would prefer just Harry right now.” Her pleading eyes fell on the brunette and he nodded in return, teeth clenched around the remaining bit of sausage there.

            “It’s settled then. I have a few things to finish at the shop this afternoon. I’ll leave you two to it.” It sounded like a business transaction, too formal and stilted. Millicent stared at her food, poking at it listlessly. Harry managed to shove the last few bites into his mouth before excusing himself to clean the dishes.

 

~~*~~

 

            “Come in.” Harry’s knock was so quiet, he was sure she wouldn’t hear, but the voice on the other side assured him she had.

            The bedroom they put Millicent in was large, open, and exposed to the woods on the back of the property. There were several tall windows letting in the sunlight, charmed shades letting in a hazy orange to match the deep umber of the walls. His eyes fell to the bed where a thick comforter was pulled back to reveal satin sheets of the deepest midnight. Realizing that he hadn’t seen Millicent, he spun quickly around, trying to find her.

            “Millicent?” His voice was hesitant.

            “Over here, Harry.” In the corner by the door, she stood tall, trying to remain steadfast. Harry nodded, walking a few steps toward her.

            “Are you… okay? Do you need anything?”

            “I’m fine.” It came out quick, sharper than she intended, so she followed with, “Thank you for asking, Harry.” He nodded once in acknowledgment.

            “Shall we…?”

The deep breath she took was loud enough he closed his eyes, taking one of his own in return. She walked toward him. When he opened his eyes again, she was standing directly before him. The tension was thick, buffeting between them on each breath. Millicent made the first move by walking past him to the bed. She did not look back, but began to take her robe off. She placed this gently on the back of a chair that sat in the corner. This was followed by untucking her shirt from her trousers, pulling it up and over her head. As she did so, she revealed a cream and black bra that hugged her breasts just so. Harry swallowed thickly as he watched, unsure what to do.

Rather than wait for an invitation, he walked to the other side of the bed and began undressing himself, a bit more quickly than she’d been. The occasional glance up showed that she was nearly naked. He wasn’t sure how to handle his body’s reaction. Part of him wanted absolutely nothing to happen, but another part of him was shocked to find her beautiful in a very different sort of way. When his pants hit the floor, discarded haphazardly like the rest of his clothes, he looked up, meeting the unsure eyes of Millicent across the bed. His cock was half hard and so many conflicting thoughts raced through his mind.

He watched as she climbed onto the bed, following her once she was lying on her back. She arranged her hair to the side, soft curls flowing over one shoulder. Harry took a moment. There was a scar across her left shoulder and he reached out, tentatively, to trace his hand across it. She jumped and he pulled back.

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right. I just wasn’t…”

“I know.”

She looked away for a moment. Harry slowly reached out to trace the scar and she did not react this time. He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. When his hand was nearing the end, he pressed his palm against her flesh, moving closer. She reached out and gripped his palm tightly. Their eyes met. Tears were starting to fall from one of her eyes and his lip trembled. He used his other hand to wipe them away.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? We don’t have to.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“You can, Harry.” His own tear escaped then, dropping to fall on her chest and roll down with every catch of her breath. They stared at one another, each thinking of a partner they were betraying in one form or another.

Harry reached down, taking himself in hand. He used slow, even strokes to try and get hard. He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he felt another hand join his and he gasped. Millicent’s cold fingers wrapped around him and she began stroking. It was strange. It wasn’t the sure, hard, twisting stroke of Draco that he was used to. This was a tight-fisted pump at the bottom which released a bit toward the head and rounded just a bit to swipe at his pre-come there. His body ignored whatever walls his mind tried to throw up and he was hard from her efforts. She gave him a strong squeeze and removed her hand.

He took this as his cue. Harry shifted his body between her legs, a foreign territory if he’d even entered one. Trailing fingers up her muscled thighs, he gently swiped at her folds, watching as she reacted, fighting it with a turned head and clenched jaw. He parted her there, his thumbs seeking out just the right spot. As he found it, she squirmed, clamping down against his hips. This made him confident enough to dip a finger inside of her wet heat, seeing that her body was ready, even if she was not. He slid a second finger in and twisted a few times, unsure of exactly what he should be doing there. When she looked down at him with pleading eyes, a strained look overcame her; he pulled away and scooted forward. Using his fingers to rub some of her across the head of his cock, he eased forward, taking a moment to find precisely where he needed to be. She gasped once when he was slightly off-center and helped guide him.

Sliding slowly into Millicent felt like he’d shoved his cock into molten fire. She was eating him alive and it felt wonderful. When he was fully seated, her fingers grasped at his hips and held him there for a minute, each body still, breathing, waiting. It became too much for him and he slid out, thrusting back in with a slight twist of his hips that had her gasping beneath him. He set a steady rhythm, trying to find an angle that pleased them both, but more trying not to come too quickly with the new sensations. Between the feeling of Millicent wrapped around him and the war going on in his head, he was overwhelmed. He dropped his head to her chest, his breath coming stuttered more because of the tears rolling down his cheeks than the orgasm gathering low in his belly.

Millicent was faring no better. Beneath the onslaught of Harry’s awkward, gentle thrusting, she felt his tears spread across her chest as they mixed with her own. Hers slipped softly down her face, trailed down her neck, and pooled in the hollow spaces of her collarbones. Each time he dragged across a particularly sensitive spot, she arched beneath him, and they moaned together, sometimes wailing aloud in their grief.

“Millie, I-I’m sorry.” It came out quickly, too quickly, as his hips snapped sharply against her and she felt him spill himself deeply inside her. They clung to each other, either too afraid to move or completely unprepared to deal with the emotions they would need to face when they did. He lay with his head on her shoulder and her legs splayed open around him, her hands softly holding on to his hips where they’d likely left bruises. After a minute that felt an eternity, Harry slowly pulled out, rolling to his side. It took a bit, but when the tears subsided, he wiped at his face and sat up. “I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.” He leaned over her and placed a kiss to the inside of her shoulder. Her eyes widened for just that moment as he made contact once more, then scooted off the bed. Harry gathered his clothes, then walked out of the bedroom. She lay on the bed alone and prayed to every god who might be listening that she was pregnant.

 

~~*~~

 

            Draco came home late that evening to find Harry curled up asleep in their bed. He was not strewn across the entire thing as per usual; instead, he was on his side of the bed, knees tucked up to his chest as far as his body would allow. While Draco found this odd, he didn’t wake his husband. The lean blonde disrobed, allowing some of the day’s stresses to shed with his clothing on the floor. He climbed beside Harry and immediately noticed the tension in the man’s body. Harry stirred, almost moving away from Draco. He did not let his lover move away. Draco wrapped his arms around the waist in front of him.

            “I love you, Harry,” Draco whispered against the cool skin of his shoulder. This is when he noticed the shaking of Harry’s body, the sniffling and silent sobs wracking the man he held. They did not speak. Draco held him and allowed Harry to feel his presence. It wasn’t long before exhaustion pulled them into a long-awaited sleep.

 

~~*~~

 

            Breakfast the next morning was informal. It seemed as if no one had the energy to cook. Harry was nibbling his way through a piece of toast while he watched Draco warm up a bowl of oats. That was something he could manage on his own. Terse silence fell across both men when Millicent entered, eyes red and swollen. She walked past the table to the counter, grabbed a croissant and flipped it onto a plate. There was a brief moment where she debated taking it back to her room, but she chose to sit at the table.

            “Harry, I—”

            “You don’t need to say anything, Millicent.”

            “Back to Millicent now?” Her shoulders slumped. The croissant was tossed back onto the plate as if unappetizing. “Harry, I need to apologize.” He looked confused.

            “Why should you be apologizing?

            “I’ve just waltzed into your lives and disrupted what looks to be a happy marriage.”

            “That’s not your fault.”

            “Neither is it yours.”

            “I am sorry, Harry. I don’t think either of us were prepared for last night.”

            “No,” he agreed sadly. “We weren’t.” He pushed his toast around for a minute. “I have an idea. Why don’t we all go on a date this afternoon? Get to know each other a little better.”

            “I would like that.”

            Harry looked to Draco, who seemed to be politely following the conversation as he ate his breakfast. Millicent turned to him now, as well. “Well, it seems you two already have this decided. Where are we going, then?”

            “We could have a picnic, or we could go flying, or… Millie, I don’t even know what you like to do.” She smiled at the use of her nickname.

            “I’d love to go flying again. It’s been a while.”

            “Flying it is!” Harry stood from the table, dumped his uneaten toast in the rubbish and raced outside. The remaining pair chuckled together at his enthusiasm.

            The brunette had three brooms in hand before Draco and Millicent were ready to leave the house. They didn’t fly far. Rather, they explored Godric’s Hollow. Millicent was unfamiliar with the area, so Harry was more than happy to oblige. Proper notice-me-not spells were cast and the trio was in the air. Harry and Draco whirled around one another, making dives and practicing seeker moves that had Millicent’s hair spinning as they darted past. In the lulls, where both men needed a breather, Harry and Millie spat questions at one another. Occasionally, Draco was pulled into the conversation and once, he even made Millie laugh.

            When they returned to the cottage, all three were a bit lighter—even Draco, who spent most of the flight watching Harry’s arse and ignoring his husband’s jibes about it. Brooms put away, the trio walked into the lounge where they collapsed onto the couch. After all of their talk that afternoon, it was Millicent again who brought up the heavy conversation of their current situation.

            “I think I’m ready to… try again.” Harry looked to his left, where Millie sat. Draco’s grip around his husband’s shoulders instinctively tightened.

            “Millie, we don’t have to. After last night, maybe we just need more time to get used to everything, each other.” He tilted his head to the side, an insecure look plastered across his face.

            “I’m ready, Harry. If you aren’t. If you don’t want to. I understand.”

            “No. No, I… when should I?”

            “Both of you. It should be both of you.” That had Draco sitting tense beside him.

            “Millie…” Harry started, but she interrupted.

“No. As I said earlier, you two were happy. We can’t put the blame on ourselves for this. What we can do is forgive each other for the things we must do.” She was on the verge of crying again, wondering if she could produce any more tears after a long night alone. Instead, she took a deep breath and continued. “If I know your husband even a little, I know that he has never been one to share.” Draco’s upper lip quirked up at this, amused. “Unfortunately, we haven’t got a choice now. I _am_ on a breeding deadline, after all.” Those tears she was trying to hold back came freely then. Harry leaned forward, allowing her to use his shoulder for support.

“Millie, we’ll get through this.” All he heard in response were her sniffles. He was at a bit of a loss. Turning back to Draco, he nodded toward the woman in his arms, gesturing for Draco to help.

“Millie, we are here for you.” It was stilted and formal, but for Draco, it was a miracle. Millicent grabbed hold of Harry and the crying intensified. He held on to her as she let it all go. At some point, Harry noticed that she’d fallen asleep and was breathing evenly against him. He continued his even stroking up and down her back, whispering against her ear that they would help her through it for a few more minutes until she turned away from him and snuggled back into him, still asleep.

There they were, stuck on the couch for fear of waking her up. Harry dozed in and out while Draco tried his hardest to ignore the erection in his trousers from having his husband constantly grinding his hips backward in his sleep. Eventually Draco gave up.

Draco woke with a slight jolt. The crick in his neck was painful, so he lifted a hand to rub it away, only to find a lap full of Harry. While he certainly didn’t mind that, he looked beyond Harry to see Millie curled up at the end of the couch, feet resting against Harry’s thigh. He let out a soft sigh, realizing that he likely wouldn’t end up back in the bedroom for a quick morning shag. Placing a soft kiss to his husband’s neck, he felt the man stir.

“Don’t move; you’ll wake Millie.” Harry was suddenly alert. The brunette twisted to look at the woman next to him before leaning his face upward. There, his lips were met with Draco’s. The angle was awkward, but two fingers beneath his chin allowed all the support he needed to keep his head from moving away. Soft, gentle kisses followed by a slow dance of Draco’s tongue against his own saw Harry sighing loudly. They ignored the world around them until Draco hitched just briefly. Harry picked up on the movement, pulling back.

“Your love is beautiful,” Millie whispered from across the way. A blush spread from Harry’s cheeks all the way down his neck and into his chest; the red splotches apparent even in the dim light of early evening. “Please, don’t be shy, Harry.” The man in question buried his face into Draco’s shoulder, where his husband laughed in response.

“You’re telling that to the wrong wizard.” Her eyebrows lifted. “This one’s shy about everything.” A silent “oh” formed on Millie’s lips and she nodded softly. Draco smiled and placed a kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “Would you like me to leave you two alone again tonight?”

“No, Draco. I meant it when I said it should be all of us.” Still a bit shocked, perhaps put off somewhat by her brazen declaration, Draco nodded.

There weren’t words as the three of them moved toward Harry and Draco’s bedroom. The door was left open. A large circular window threw moonlight across the room bright enough that they did not light any candles, nor cast any spells. Wands were set aside. Millie and Draco looked at one another and nodded in understanding.

Surrounding Harry, Millie placed a kiss to his cheek while Draco’s cool hands slipped under his jumper and began shuffling it up his body. He turned to look at his husband, but Draco bit gently at his neck and spun him back around. Harry shivered. Millie was there to catch him, raising a hand to his face once his jumper was off and kissing him chastely. Harry’s eyes widen, but when he doesn’t fight, she deepened the kiss. This time, there was a slide of tongue against his lips and he let her in. Draco continued disrobing Harry, reaching around to unbutton his trousers, hearing the gasp as he did so. He slid them down the man’s firm thighs, making sure to run his fingers along the outsides.

Harry braced himself against Millie when Draco lifted first one foot, then the other. In just his pants, he felt exposed. He reached forward to help Millie out of her clothing, but she smiled and stepped back. Hands pulled him backward against a bare chest and Draco’s teeth grazed up the side of his neck, tugging at his earlobe when they neared. Harry gasped. Against his arse was the delicious feel of his husband’s cock, pulsing as it ground into him in eagerness. Before him, Millie has stripped down to her bra and panties. She no longer wore cream and black but a soft lavender that complemented her smooth skin.

Without warning, Harry was bereft. Draco walked around his lover to stand behind Millicent. Her head dipped as she felt confident fingers trace along her shoulders and down her spine, where he released the clasp of her bra. Draco tugged the fabric from her and tossed it aside. She stood tall, trying not to be embarrassed in front of the men she’s now legally bonded to.

“Are your nipples sensitive, Millie?” He listened for the intake of breath before reaching around, cupping one large breast and pinching it between thumb and forefinger. She moaned, twisting her hips. Harry stood motionless. When he moved to the other, rolling it around, flicking it a few times, then plucking it outward, watching as it tented beneath his attention, she let her head fall against his shoulder. Harry licked his lips watching his husband, the intense gaze in Draco’s eyes staring right back at him while plying Millie’s body.

Harry stepped forward, too interested now to leave them alone. Draco allowed Millie to rest her weight back on him, his hands sliding lower to push her legs into a wider stance. Harry’s lips found her open mouth, trailing down her neck to her other breast. She bucked forward against him when his mouth latched on, sucking it in. Her taste was sharp and sweet and he laved at the skin until he felt her panting. Draco’s fingers wound their way down the crevice of her thigh into her folds. Brushing against that white-hot fireball of nerves, she came alight between her lovers. Writhing, moaning, guttural noises came out of the woman as she struggled to keep everything in. Draco’s finger slips just inside, encouraging one of Harry’s to join him.

Now pressed between the two heated bodies, Millicent felt her legs give, felt the arms of the men hold her up and each plunge a finger into the depths of her core. That searching, reaching, come-hither scrape set her off and Harry couldn’t help but reach forward to kiss Draco over Millie’s shoulder. Their tongues dueled briefly before parting to help the languid body between them to their bed. Draco directed Millie to the far edge of the bed, laying on her side, with Harry behind her. Stripped bare, Harry felt his cock snug up against her arse, pushing achingly into flesh in search of something… more.

It wasn’t until Draco opened the drawer of the stand by the bed that Harry had any idea what he planned to do. The brunette looked over his shoulder, eyes hazy with love, lust, and utterly lost to the moment. Draco crept up the bed behind his husband and uncapped the jar, dipping a finger into the lube and generously coating the length of two fingers. As the substance warmed and began to liquefy a bit, he moved his hand downward to Harry’s arse, coating the entrance and pushing just enough for his husband to still and breathe deeply. Millicent lay on the other side, unaware of Draco’s movements, and instead, rocked back onto Harry’s cock.

The slow, sliding grind was driving Harry mad. Combined with the way Draco was now curling two fingers inside him, he was bound to come rather more quickly than he’d like. He took the opportunity to reach down and pinch himself, feeling his erection flag for just a moment—but it was enough. A moan slid from his throat as Draco’s third finger entered him and Millie’s hand was between her own thighs, squirming as she rocked forward onto it, then back into Harry.

“Are you ready, Harry?” Draco’s voice was a bit deeper than normal. Harry couldn’t respond, only nod. Draco reached across Harry to stop Millie’s hand, pulling her thigh open just enough for the brunette to get the idea. He groaned as he angled upward, pushing softly into the quivering heat Millie offered. She grunted, grabbing the bed linen with her left hand for support while she waited for him to _move._ It was Harry’s turn to wait. He knew what was coming and tried to relax as he felt Draco rustling with the jar behind him and then the blunt head of that familiar cock at his entrance. The dual sensations were nearly enough to end him, but Draco bit down roughly on his shoulder. Harry cried out just as Draco’s cock pushed through, then hissed as he slid in.

“Fuck,” was all Harry could manage. Draco began to withdraw and it sucked Harry backward from Millie. She breathed deeply before feeling him thrust forward at Draco’s urging. It took a few practiced strokes before Harry was able to go against Draco’s movements toward Millie. As the blonde withdrew, Harry pushed mindlessly forward into the woman clutching tightly to his pillow.

Too many sensations and so little preparation had all three of them breathing heavily, sweating in the twisting mass of flesh they became. Millie, having just come recently, and aggressively using the palm of her hand to stimulate herself, was the first to let loose. She was followed quickly by Harry, his orgasm ripped from him by her tightly clenching walls which refused to let him go until every last drop was gone. The last to be sated was Draco, still thrusting into the moaning and delirious man caught between. It wasn’t until his husband looked back at him, hair plastered to his forehead, cock still buried deep in their new lover, whispering, “I love you, Draco,” that he let it all go. Draco leaned forward and captured Harry’s lips, awkward position though it was. He shuddered as the last few threads of his claim to Harry spilled out.

A groggy Harry reached behind him, trailing up Draco’s hip, then forward to Millie’s to do the same. “While I’m not complaining about sleeping between you, I would really prefer if I could clean up first.” Millie giggled and the sound was strange to him. Even Draco sat up on an elbow, hand on Harry’s waist to look at her. He placed a kiss to Harry’s shoulder and nodded into his skin.

“Go on, clean yourself up. I’ll follow in a few.” Making his way out from between them, he didn’t notice the wince from Millie as she rolled onto her back or the appraising eye of Draco as he watched Harry’s arse bounce off into the bathroom.

“You all right?” His words were hushed, but she heard them all the same.

“Yea, I’m okay.”

“Aside from the sex, Millie.”

“I will be.”

 

~~*~~

 

            The triad fell into an easy routine. Each morning, either Harry or Millie would make breakfast. Draco grumbled his way through and they took it as a compliment when his plate emptied quickly. Off to work, they separated at the floo with a quick goodbye and didn’t reunite again until late in the evening. Dinner depended on the day; sometimes they cooked, other nights it was quick takeout from a nearby restaurant. After dinner, they usually retired to the lounge for a watch of something on the muggle telly Harry’d rigged to work with a few spells he and Hermione threw together. When they tired of the silence or one of them grew restless, the evening often turned toward other, more sensual activities.

            They didn’t force themselves on her. Instead, they waited for her to come to them. She knew her body and they did their best to listen. Quite often, sex was more about learning how to make sure Millie was leaving satisfied and not just performing her duty to the law. As they uncovered the secrets of each other’s bodies, everything was brought into the light.

            Hours were spent exploring each curve, angle, trail of hair, and scar. Harry’s body told the loudest tale—his scars claiming darker enigmas than the others. While a few boyhood scrapes remained on Draco from quidditch and the odd tussle, his only permanent mark was the sectumsempra scar he received from Harry. That, in particular, was sensitive and his lovers made sure to exploit such an easy weakness. Of the three of them, Millie’s body showed the fewest scars. That didn’t mean she didn’t have them; they were just harder to find.

            For three months they continued like this. Three months of sharing each other in various ways. Three months of hoping that each time the pregnancy spell was cast on Millie, it would turn blue. Instead, they had to train their faces to remain hopeful, as she would turn away from them and seclude herself for a few days before returning to them with a whispered apology. In her absence, Harry and Draco lay together in tight embraces, whispering promises that might not mean anything in the face of Ministry demands and addendum B, subsection twenty-four. The pressure was building and with no answer among themselves, they began to look elsewhere.

 

~~*~~

 

            “Are you sure the potion you’ve been brewing used the right number of lacewing flies?” Hermione’s nose was nearly pressed to the page she was reading, so it was no wonder she couldn’t see the incoming storm headed her way.

            Harry stood, trying to hold him off, but it was no use. He did, however, get hold of the wand arm before it he sent off a spell he might regret. “Draco.” He called the name, trying to keep him under control.

            “Are you kidding me? I know you’re a fucking Weasley now, but the least you could do is not act like one.” She looked up then, eyes wide.

            “Draco, you know I’m only asking because—”

            “I don’t care why you’re asking. What I care about is that you have the bollocks to insinuate a lack of attention to brewing with something like this. Something that could lose me my fucking husband, Hermione!” Harry blushed and they all tried not to stare as Millie sucked her bottom lip in, her own cheeks reddening somewhat.

            “I’m sorry, Draco. I didn’t mean it that way.” Harry was standing in front of Draco now, hands on either hip, whispering against his cheek. It took a quick kiss and a nod from Draco before the blonde stormed out of the library.

            “He’s just upset. He doesn’t understand why the potions aren’t working. We’ve tried several.” Hermione nodded in understanding, but Millie shrank back in on herself, trying to be small when her presence overpowered that corner of the library.

            The tawny owl that rested on the arm of her chair scooted closer to her, its wings flapping once before coming to rest comfortably against Millie’s arm. She stroked the bird, more out of comfort for herself than for the bird. As she’d been doing all afternoon, Millie turned to look out of the window beside her to the woods. They glowed with the setting sun and she lost herself in the last rays of warmth coming through. She was holding off casting a warming charm. There was something to be said about feeling the changes in the earth, even if your toes weren’t wriggling in its soil. Right then, she was content to feel the chill.

            Chimes disrupted the room and Harry almost dropped the book he’s holding. Draco walked back in the room and answered it before anyone else managed to get up. In the flames were the faces of Ron and Luna. He waved them through, muttering something about, “Blasted Weasleys,” before moving away and pacing near the door.

            “Hullo Harry. Oi Hermione. I didn’t know you’d be here! Hullo Millie.” Ron was cheerful and it lightened the mood somewhat. He turned around and waited for his wife to come through, catching her hands as she walked gracefully through the connection.

            “Hello everyone. I’m glad to see you are doing well Harry. Draco. Millicent, you are particularly plagued by nimblyfinks today. Are you eating properly?” She walked somewhat awkwardly over to the chair beside Millie and plopped down, crossing her legs and pelting the poor woman with questions.

            Ron took the break as his chance to see his best friends. With a grin, he turned to Harry. “Lovely, isn’t she?” After seeing Harry’s responding smile, he slapped the brunette on the back and pulled up a chair. “You haven’t come round the burrow in a couple of weeks. Mum’s been on a tirade about it.”

            “Sorry, Ron. We’ve been kind of… busy.”

            “I’m sure.” He waggled his eyebrows.

            “I wish that was all.”

            “Oh?” He was more serious now.

            “We’re researching fertility spells, Ron.” Hermione felt it necessary to spare her friend the annoyance at having to explain himself. Apparently the Weasleys didn’t have any issues in that department, considering Hermione and Luna were both pregnant in the first two months of marriage.

            “Well what can I do, mate? Luna wanted to get out of the house. I’m here as long as you want me.” Harry gestured to a stack of books they’d pulled from the library. The Potter Cottage library was an amalgamation of Grimmauld Place, Hermione’s assorted leftovers (books that wouldn’t fit on her shelves), and the books that Draco pulled from Malfoy Manor. They managed to scrape quite a few editions up with mentions of fertility, but nothing amassed to more than what they’d already tried.

            “—my mother used one when the ministry was overwhelmed during the first war. That’s how she conceived me. I’d been very difficult up until that point. There was just something about my mother’s magic that I opposed until then.”

            “Do you know anything about it?” Millie’s voice was quiet, hesitant.

            “Of course I do. The rituals have been passed down through our family. I’m quite sure I know the ritual that will work for you, if you like.” Luna spoke clearly, the light from the pale moon slanting across her face and allowing the shadows to play with the hollows there, creating a vision of haunting, ethereal beauty.

            Across the room, Hermione scoffed. Everyone looked at her and she had the decency to blush, keeping her face down in her book. “What? Since when have rituals like that worked? I think we need to find the right spell, or maybe a different potion. I know we can find the answer, Harry.” He looked up at her and the doubt was plain to see.

            “I trust you Hermione. I’ve trusted you with my life, but we’ve been looking for two weeks now. We’ve tried countless potions, brewed by a _potions master_ ,” said with emphasis just for Draco’s bruised ego, “and still, we aren’t getting anywhere.”

            “Have you, um… Are you both?” Ron’s face matched his hair as he tried to get the words out.

            “Yes, Weasley. We’re both fucking her.”

            “Draco.” It was sharp, but Millie got the point across. Draco rolled his eyes and resumed pacing.

            “Oh, okay then.” He went back to flipping pages.

            “Would you consider the ritual, Millicent? If I’m correct, then it isn’t you, or Harry, or Draco that is preventing you from conceiving.” At Millie’s raised eyebrow, she continued. “You are legally bound to them, but you did not willingly bind your magic to either wizard. In order for your body to combine your magic with theirs, your life essence to conceive a child, you need to willingly bind yourself to them. A fertility ritual will do that for you.”

            Millie nodded. She turned to Harry, who shrugged. Then her gaze drifted over to the pacing Draco, who stopped his maddening step to stare hard at her, grey eyes assessing the question she posed.

            “Oh, fine. You two want to do it, I’ll do it.”

            “Thank you, Draco.” Millie rose, walked across the room, and kissed him chastely on the cheek. He closed his eyes as she did so, then allowed her to pass from the room with her dignity intact.

            “This better work. We’re running out of time.” He pierced Luna with a skeptical glare then turned and left.

            “I’m sorry, Luna. We’re all a bit on edge right now.” The left side of Harry’s mouth quirked up in a tired smile.

            “The three of you need to rest. If the ritual is going to work, your magical energy needs to be at its peak. There is a full moon four nights from now. Until then, I want the three of you to rest, make sure to get plenty to eat, and let your bodies relax.”

            “You aren’t going to be there, are you?” She laughed, and it was a joyful, pleasant sound.

            “No, Harry. This will be between the three of you. I will send over the things you need. In the meantime—lots of rest.”

 

~~*~~

            “Remind me why I agreed to help with this?” This was the second time Hermione asked Luna the same question in the span of five minutes. They hadn’t even knocked on the cottage door.

            “You are here to support your friends, Hermione. Just because they aren’t doing this your way, does not mean they don’t need you. Magic responds to many things. Negativity can affect this ritual, even if it isn’t theirs.” She did her best version of a glare and Hermione rolled her eyes.

            “I’ll keep that in mind.” Hermione knocked on the door. Millie opened it and greeted both women with a gentle hug and a tired smile. “Where are the boys?”

            “Getting ready at the manor. I kicked them out.” She grinned at this, proud of herself.

            “Let’s just hope they aren’t doing their own version of the ritual this afternoon.”

            “Absolutely not! I warned them that their bollocks would twist until they fell off if they did.” Instead of a happy grin, Millie was plain smug. Luna beamed at her and nodded. At first, Hermione’s mouth gaped open in shock, but then she doubled over.

            “Are you okay?” Millie rushed over, gently putting a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Hermione, do you need a healer? Do we need to floo to St. Mungo’s?”

            Just then, they could hear her soft laughter. It grew until she dropped to her knees, eyes watering as she looked up at the two other women. “I-I can just imagine. I can imagine their faces,” she paused here, trying to catch her breath. “Their faces when you told them no sex. Good one, Millie.” Millicent and Luna looked to one another then back down at Hermione, who was clutching at her stomach in another silent fit of laughter.

            “Are you sure you’re okay? Did George give you something before you left?”

            “No, no. I’m fine.” She wiped her eyes, a goofy grin on her face. “What’s this about a scented bath and oils?”

            “This way.” Millie turned, looked back to make sure both were following, then led them to the main bathroom. Once inside, she stepped toward the large sunken bathtub. There were several steps down from the floor and it could seat four people. Beside the bathing monstrosity was a rack with heated towels, scented oils, various bath salts, and an assortment of soaps. Luna walked over to peruse, mumbling to herself about cleansing the room of lingering wrackspurts.

            “Are you ready, Millie?” Luna’s soft voice trailed through the steam in the room as if heavy amongst the fog.

            “Part of me wants this more than anything. Another part of me wants it all to go away. I’m not sure which part is winning right now.” She was sitting on the edge of the bath, toes swirling in the warm water. Hermione knelt beside her with a flannel and lemon-scented soap.

            “No one is ever ready to bond to another soul. You’ve already given yourself to one person and lost him. Now you’re being forced to do it again—only now you have to split that between two wizards. I can’t begin to imagine how you are feeling right now.” Hermione’s hand reached out, clasping the one resting open on Millie’s thigh. “I am here for you, tonight. I am here to make sure that this is what you want.” Her wide eyes stared into the nervous expression reflecting back at her. Millie took a deep breath, letting it out haltingly.

            “I loved Greg. I still do. But, I think I love them too, in their own ways.” Hermione nodded. Luna now stood to her other side. She reached forward and grabbed for the cloak about Millie’s shoulders.

            “Let’s get you ready then, shall we? You’ve got two wizards waiting for you.”

            Between the two, Millicent’s body was scrubbed of old days and the old ways. She lost herself in the fingers and hands of the women who tended her. Several times, she closed her eyes only to wake and find that they’d moved on to a different part of her body. Nothing was left untended. For that night, she was a clean thing, something pure and whole. Millie felt as if she’d been stripped bare of the last ten years and given a chance for something new.

            As she stepped out of the bath, they dried her slowly with a large towel. Her body glistened with running droplets that maneuvered her curves and worked their way toward the inevitable fall to fate. Dry, the women used oil scented of lemongrass and orange. She smelled sweet and tangy and the robe they draped on her absorbed the scent quickly, allowing her to breathe its calming scent as she moved.

            “Do you remember the circle?” Millie nods. “Then you’re ready. We will leave you now. As soon as you see the moon, go and find your lovers.” Luna’s voice disappeared much like both women did. She was left alone to her thoughts and the long wait for moonlight.

 

~~*~~

 

            “Will you sit down?”

            “What the fuck are we doing, Harry?” Draco stopped his agitated pacing, the bare-footed steps across marble pausing. Harry moved to stand behind his husband, wrapped his arms so they fell around Draco’s waist and clasped hands together in front of his belly. They were met with another set of hands, which squeezed them roughly. Together, the two men stared out of the window as they breathed in the last few minutes of quiet together.

            “We are protecting ourselves. Our future. Millie. We’re doing what we’ve always done.”

            “Oh?” Harry could almost see Draco’s eyebrow lift from behind him. “And what’s that?”

            “Survive.” He spun the blonde around so that he could look up into his eyes. “We’re surviving, Draco.” He captured the narrow lips in a brushing kiss, coming back for another and another. The repeated gesture broke him down and Draco fell apart in Harry’s arms, kissing him back with hurried, frantic movements. Hands were everywhere—under shirts and in trouser bands, tugging at buttons and other, more sensitive things.

            “Wait.” Harry pulled back, leaning his forehead against Draco’s now-exposed chest. “Millie will kill us. We have to wait.” The growl that came in response was so tragically Draco that he chuckled, grinding himself against the erection pressing against his own. “Let’s take a shower. Do what we’re actually supposed to be doing right now.” He trailed a hand up his husband’s spine, feeling the body in his arms respond and shiver. Draco nodded.

            Clothes were stripped on the way to the shower. There was no pretense of modesty between them. Everything was laid bare as they rid the day’s filth from one another. Open-mouthed kisses, the aching scrape of teeth, a gentle lapping to the sensitive parts of the neck—these things they allowed themselves, but nothing more. They focused on making sure that each inch of their bodies was seen to, the foaming scent of pine in every crevice and along every surface. Perhaps it was easier for them, applying the oil, as their hands moved naturally over flesh that was well-mapped and responsive to just the right amount of pressure.

When they were done, huddled together in robes of deep onyx on a chaise that always felt out of place to Draco, they waited. The window through which they watched the stars appear spanned half the room. In some ways, it was comforting to see the blanket of sky and what hovered above them. Waiting right on the other side of the clouds was the tension and agitation of the ritual ahead. Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead, whispering the words he hoped his husband didn’t hear.

“I can’t lose you, Harry Potter.”

 

~~*~~

 

            They appeared within moments of each other—the three of them standing bewildered and hesitant beneath the first glint of moonlight. Millicent was across the circle. She moved first. They mirrored her. Birch trees surrounded them, ghostly sentries as they walked toward one another in the moonlight.

            Millie’s robe was white. Her magic was pure and as yet her own. In contrast to that of the dark sheen surrounding the men before her, she glowed with the gossamer strands of each star as its light was shed on the earth. Their magic was already tethered, swirling between them in the dark chaos that was their bond. Three became one as they joined hands in the middle of the clearing. Wide eyes and deep breaths forced all of them to take in the moment. She looked first at Harry, who nodded, and then to Draco, who pursed his lips and dipped his forehead ever-so-slightly toward her.

There was a tightening of each hand she gripped as she began, “On the evening of a pure moon, I bring to you pure magic with a pure heart.” Her lips struggled with the last few words, but she took a breath and went on. “I bond myself to you, Harry, and you, Draco, if you both shall have me. This I do willingly, and ask for you to do the same.”

“On the evening of a pure moon, I bring to you the magic of a bonded man with a pure heart. I bond myself to you, Millicent, and again, always, to you Draco, if you both shall have me. This I do willingly, and ask for you to do the same.” Draco’s eyes flashed as he realized that the last piece of this puzzle, the final step, was his alone.

“O-on the evening of a pure moon, I bring to you the magic of a bonded man with a pure heart. I bond myself to you, Millicent, and always, to you Harry, if you both shall have me.” His eyes were molten now as he stared directly at Harry. He could feel the bond with his husband tugging at his chest. His voice became soft, barely audible. “This I do willingly, and ask for you to do the same.”

None of them moved. There was a distinct feeling of connection as the bond joined them as three, as one. Millicent could feel Draco’s agitation; she could sense Harry’s wild magic barely contained in his body. Both men could feel the waves of anxiety and power radiating off of their newly-bonded wife. After a minute, the magic calmed and everyone took a few deep breaths.

Harry looked up, meeting Millie’s eyes and smiling softly to one another. Together, they let go of Draco’s hands and surrounded him. Millie’s easy kiss helped keep the lean frame from bolting as Harry reached around to unclasp the robe, dragging his fingers across Draco’s flesh as he slid it slowly to the ground. Now completely exposed, Draco reached forward and did the same to Millie, trying to turn and do the same to Harry. Instead, Harry batted his hand away and turned him back around, maintaining a supportive presence at his back.

“Harry…”

“No, Draco. Tonight, we do what Millie wants. This is what she wants right now.” Draco licked his lips, looking forward again to his wife. He rolled the word around on his tongue, silent and tasteless. She gave him a look of understanding and reached out slowly to trace his clenched jaw with thumb and forefinger. Her lips returned to Draco’s, occupying him as Harry transfigured their cloaks into a blanket for them all to lay on.

They pushed Draco down, his body tense and rigid. He held himself up on elbows and toes. Millie slithered up his body to straddle his waist. Her tongue slowly slid across her bottom lip, her teeth pulling the crimson skin between gleaming white to linger there as she stared down at him. Hands were on Draco’s thighs, then and the man jumped. Harry chuckled, gripping the toned legs and massaging there before working upward, ever upward toward the half-hard cock that waited just below Millie’s arse. This, Harry ignored. Instead, his hands continued upward to the creamy flesh of Millie’s hips, kneading and rubbing, gripping and claiming. Harry placed kisses to her shoulders and back that left impressions on her skin, the heat there lingering in his absence.

While Harry worked upward, around Millie from the back, she leaned forward and attempted to take one of Draco’s nipples into her mouth. He gasped, arching upward. Their bond pulled taut and all three of them groaned at the awareness. Her mouth moved downward just enough to reach the scar that ran the breadth of his chest. She flicked her tongue across it once, then began twirling it up and over, around and along the raised skin that Draco was so reserved with. His body fell back to the ground, fists grasped tightly in the blanket. Millie moved with him. Harry moved with Millie.

When she had leaned forward enough to expose her body to him, Harry slid two fingers forward into her wetness. She shoved back onto him seeking out her pleasure. Harry inserted a third finger quickly and twisted, her head snapping back and up in a rapid intake of breath. He saw Draco’s hands reach up and take hold of her arms to steady her. As Harry continued his slow massage of Millicent, he reached down and took hold of Draco. The man was fully erect, but he wanted to be sure they were both ready. He felt Millie’s body begin to swell around his fingers, to spasm and clamp down. She cried out her release into Draco’s mouth, who ate each sound hungrily.

            In their pause, it was Harry who moved Draco so that he was rubbing at Millicent’s entrance. He rubbed the head of that cock around, letting her recent orgasm coat him and the feel of him sent a shiver up her spine. She slowly sat back, taking Draco in. They moaned together, moving slowly for a minute before Draco forced himself to sit up, Millie in his lap. In this position, they rocked together, the angle deep. With each roll of her hips against him, each upward grind, she was not only dragging him across every sensitive part inside her, but using his body to nudge the most tender spot at each peak. Harry was no longer behind Millicent, but had crawled to the side of the couple, using his hands for extra stimuli. He flicked a nipple here, bit a shoulder there. Draco leaned over and they kissed for several moments, the continuous rocking of Millie fueling the pace and speed at which their tongues dueled.

            At once, Draco pulled away. His lips were swollen and red. Silver eyes hazed with lust looked directly at Millie and grew hard as he tried to restrain himself. Her pace was increasing, soft moans coming on every thrust now. He breathed deeply, trying not to think about the woman on top of him or the man beside him as she rode him to orgasm. This time, when she came, she took him with her. He grunted, burying his face in her chest as he buried his frustrations, fears, and hope inside her. When she could breathe, she looked down and saw the quiet tears making their way to his stubborn jaw.

            “Draco.” She said his name like a prayer. He turned away, though he was still inside of her. “Draco, we will find a way.” She held in her own emotions as she kissed the back of his turned cheek, feeling Harry’s arms wrap around them both.

            All too soon, she moved off of him to lay next to both men. Harry was behind Draco, whispering softly to him and holding the man he’d called husband for too short a time as tightly as he could. After a soft stroke of that platinum crest, Harry turned toward Millie.

            “Are you okay?”

            “I’m fine. Is he okay?”

            “Yea.”

            “I wish it didn’t have to be like this, Harry. I wish we could—”

            “If wishes were dreams, right?” She nodded, looking down at her hands, then over to his naked body. She’d learned how to read him pretty well over the last few months. His body was eager, despite the overwhelming sense of foreboding. “Now or never, love.” She tried to ignore the endearment, putting it aside as the situation and his unfailing gallantry. Plucking up the courage, she sat up on her elbows, smiled at him, and waited. He took the hint and made his way over, looking just once to see that Draco had turned over and was now watching with a hazy fire in his eyes.

            Harry did not want to take his time. He did not want this to be drawn out and emotional. Looking to Millie, he could see the same questions reflected back at him. As he put a knee between her legs he leaned down to her ear and whispered, “Are you ready?” She reached down, grabbed him and stroked twice, quickly, roughly.

            That was all the answer he needed. He pushed her thighs apart, took himself in hand and used the remaining juices from her previous orgasm to ease his way in. Once there, he was not gentle. He was not slow. His pace was punishing and from the sharp intake of breath followed by several harsh cries, he could tell that she was just on the pleasurable side of pain. Harry grimaced, trying desperately not to come too soon. He looked over to where Draco lay, which was most certainly a mistake. His husband was staring at the couple as they rutted, his hand stroking eagerly up and down his shaft. He was not lost in his own pleasure, however; instead, he was staring straight into Harry’s eyes. That’s when Harry lost it. Just a few more brutal snaps of his hips against Millie’s thighs and he came, pulling out to collapse against her side with an exhausted grunt. She began running her fingers through his hair.

            “I’m so sorry, Millie. I couldn’t…” His voice faded out.

            “I can feel it, too, Harry. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He lifted his head, her fingers stilling.

            “What do you mean?”

            “What I feel for you—each of you… That is nothing compared to what you feel for each other. That can only come with time. Sometimes you need each other more than you need me, and that is okay. You need to know that I’m okay with that.” Harry couldn’t help but reach back for Draco, trying to pull him closer. The blonde eased over toward the pair. “Even though this bond was about bringing me into this relationship,” she gestured to the two of them. “I could feel the existing bond strengthening, too. It’s like there’s… a secondary link to my bond with each of you. I know it’s there. I can feel it, but it’s not mine. It’s part of me, through you, but it’s yours.”

            Draco and Harry looked at one another. They shared a smile, a chaste kiss.

 

~~*~~

 

            For a week, they tried to act as if nothing had changed, as if they weren’t waiting to see if Millie was pregnant. It broke Harry first. Draco found him in the library, curled up in a large armchair with a book haphazardly tossed aside. His glasses were practically mangled on his face as they’d been smashed into his arm. The poor man looked exhausted. Puffy eyes and tear streaks running down his cheeks told Draco everything he needed to know. Gently, he removed the glasses from his husband’s sleeping form, cast a quick repair spell, and tucked them into his pocket. He then cradled Harry’s head in one arm while gathering his legs under the other. With no small amount of effort, Draco walked Harry upstairs to their bed. Millie caught sight of this and helped to pull the covers down, tucking him in. They walked out together, leaving Harry to rest in silence.

            “I don’t like seeing him like this.”

            “I don’t either. I just don’t know what to do. The spell won’t show anything for another two days, Draco.” The man in question was now nursing a glass of whiskey while pacing.

            “Yes. And in the meantime, we’re all falling apart here.” His voice escalated, amber liquid sloshing about in front of him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he set the glass down. “I’m sorry, Millie.”

            “You don’t think this is hard on me, too?”

            “I know it is.”

            “No you don’t!” She stomped toward him, snatched the drink and had it down before Draco could stop her. “I’ve already lost one husband. Now I have to face the prospect of losing TWO more. TWO, Draco. Do you even have any idea what that feels like?” Her hands flew upward, cupping her face as she lost it, sliding to the floor on her knees. Draco knelt down with her, wrapping his arms around the shaking woman.

            “I am so sorry Millie. There is nothing else I can say. I don’t understand what you’re going through.” She looked up at him now. They were quiet as everything sunk in. “They won’t even have to dissolve our bond. If I can’t be with him, I—Millie, I won’t make it.” She smiled, reaching out to hold one of his hands in hers.

            “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” He huffed at her. “We both need him to be the strong one, but he’s not doing so well right now.”

            “My golden boy never was very good at it.” The goofy smirk was back. “Let’s make a truce, all right?”

            “I’m listening.”

            “If you promise to _not_ ingest alcohol while we’re trying to get you, _or_ keep you pregnant, then I’ll try to do a better job at being supportive. I know I’m shit at it.” She laughed.

            “That you are, Draco. That you are. Deal.”

 

~~*~~

 

            “I can’t do it.”

            Hermione rolled her eyes, letting out a groan of frustration. They’d been going at this for nearly an hour and the trio couldn’t determine who was going to cast the spell, nor who would have their eyes open to see what color it turned.

            “What if it didn’t work? I can’t be responsible for telling you! You’ll all be upset with me.” Harry looked like he was about to have a panic attack. Thankfully Millie noticed and pushed him into a seat. Ron chuckled across the room and Hermione fixed him with a glare.

            “Oh, would you all please SHUT UP?” She stood now, hands on her hips instead of tugging at the curls that escaped her ponytail. “I’ll cast the bloody thing myself. I’ll even put a blindfold spell on your wife so that she doesn’t see anything I’m doing. How does that sound?” The words came out as exasperated as she felt and, by the looks on their faces, they knew it too.

            “Yes, Hermione. That would be wonderful. Thank you.” Millie was quiet, but she stood and walked out of the room. Together, the women entered the upstairs bedroom. Millie sat on the bed and Hermione stood directly in front of her.

            “Do you want the blindfold spell or not?” She seemed to debate the answer, so Hermione cast it without giving her a chance to respond. If she didn’t want it, Hermione would remove it anyway. “Ready?” There was a good bit of heavy breathing coming from the bed now, but Millie sat rigid with her fingernails dug into the comforter. “Conceptum exsero.” Hermione was silent after casting the spell. Millie reached out until she collided with her arm, gripping tightly.

            “Hermione? Hermione am I…?” A sharp light blinded her for a moment. She moved to cover her eyes before gasping as something clicked. The light was blue. The light was blue! She looked up to Hermione with the question in her eyes to see the other witch nodding excitedly in response.

            “Congratulations, Millie.” The newly-pregnant witch wrapped her arms around Hermione, quietly sobbing against her shoulder.

            “Thank you. Thank you. Oh, Hermione. Thank you.”

            “It wasn’t me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I think you owe Luna your thanks.” Both women smiled. “Though she’s a bit preoccupied with the twins right now.” She laughed softly, thinking of Ron’s bewildered look after the delivery. “Shall we go tell the boys?”

            “They’ll be so happy. They can stay together.” Millie looked down at her stomach, still flat beneath her jumper.

            “Millie. You listen to me right now. Those two idiots love you.” Millicent smiled through her tears. “Now get your bum off that bed and let’s go give them the best news of their lives.”

            Draco and Harry stood together looking out the window in the lounge. It was a grey day, but they held each other hoping to keep away some of the chill. As the soft pats of footsteps were heard coming down the stairs, both turned to wait for news. Hermione entered first. They could see the tearstains on her cheeks and she walked past them, allowing Millie into the room. Hermione sat next to Ron, who tried asking what happened while Millie made her way over to the window.

            “What’s wrong, love?”

            “Is everything okay, Millie?”

            Both were trying to talk to her at once and the tears started again. She couldn’t contain them. They looked to each other and their faces fell. Harry turned into Draco and hugged him. They both reached out for Millie and pulled her close.

As she was drawn into their embrace, she whispered, ever so softly, “You’re going to be fathers.” There was silence. Neither man seemed to breathe for what seemed an eternity until she pulled back so that she could look them in the eye.

“Are—are you sure…?” She nodded.

“Draco, I’m going to be a dad. You’re going to be a dad!” Harry let out a pent-up scream of emotion. It was raw and messy. Hermione gasped, then could only stare as she watched the other parts of his triad form a circle and surround the broken part of him with the broken parts of them. In this way, they became whole. Three, yet one.

 

~~*~~

 

            Pregnancy was not easy on any of them. Each time something changed, the new fathers grew uneasy and called for a healer immediately. Millie indulged them in this. The healers at St. Mungo’s knew her quite well by the time she reached her second trimester. With most of her morning sickness taken care of by Draco’s enhanced potions, she was left to requesting odd food cravings late at night and encouraging as many foot rubs as they would give. Harry was certainly more obliging than Draco of these quirks, but he tried. Often, there were questions of whether she really needed that chocolate truffle at two in the morning while Harry rolled out of bed to get one from the stash in the cupboard.

            Her body grew into something foreign. It changed and morphed into a sacred vessel that was so treasured by those around her that she feared mishandling it. One evening, she stumbled on the stairs and took a hard fall to her hip. She was immediately whisked away to hospital to verify that no one was injured. Both of her husbands pressured her into a week’s worth of bed rest, even though she only had a mild bruise. This amused her—the first time.

            Hermione and Luna were a much-needed reprieve from the overbearing figures she lived with. They brought over little Fred, Ivan, and Ivanna. She was allowed hours of laughter, conversation that didn’t involve the words “birth” or “pregnancy,” and even some gossip from the wizarding world outside of what her husbands thought to bring her. To say she enjoyed this time was an understatement.

            When her water broke, Harry was the only one home. He immediately went into panicked-father mode. Millie cast the patronus charm she’d been practicing, courtesy of said husband, and sent it off to Draco at the shop. He stumbled through the floo in a matter of minutes. She’d never seen him stumble through anything, so it gave her a bit of a chuckle.

            “Why aren’t you at St. Mungo’s yet? Harry, why is she still here?”

            “Ask her that. She wouldn’t go without you.”

            “I was not going to give birth to our child without both of my husbands present. Now if both of you will grab yourself by the bollocks, we can get this done.” They stared at her blankly until a contraction hit and she nearly fell to the ground. Draco caught her, Harry grabbed the pre-packed “baby bags” and they scarpered as quickly as they could.

            Millie labored for nearly seven hours. The entire time, she refused pain potions. Draco and Harry jokingly told her they took one each for the screeching and possibly broken—okay maybe only slightly bruised hands they were sporting. It was worth it. It was all worth it when Millie went quiet, her body tired, breathing heavily. They waited as the healer turned away from all of them with the baby in her arms. A little wail came from around the healer’s robes and Draco felt his heart drop into his feet. Harry was rapidly whispering into Millie’s forehead over and over again how brave she was and how much he loved her.

            “Congratulations, everyone. You’ve a son.” Harry’s guttural cry was anguished. He fell forward onto Millie’s chest, where it was her turn to stroke through his hair and tell him that everything was all right. The baby was all right. When he sat up, he tried wiping tears from his face before walking toward the healer.

            “Can I?”

            “He’s yours. Of course.” She swaddled the child in a gentle green blanket before placing him in Harry’s arms. Draco waited, unsure if he should stay with Millie or go toward Harry and their child.

Millie nudged him. “It’s okay. Go see him.”

When Draco approached, Harry beamed. The little boy cradled there in his arms had just a slight spattering of golden peach fuzz on the top of his head. His eyes were closed, but for the moment he was content. Harry maneuvered the baby out of his arms and out toward Draco. At first, the other man looked confused. Harry laughed and talked him through it. Draco was completely overwhelmed. He turned away from his husband and wife, looking down at the little life in his arms.

            “Look at you. We did it. You did it. Because of you, I don’t have to lose any of them. Thank you.” He placed a kiss to the child’s forehead, breathing deeply for the first time in nearly a year.


End file.
